


Wrath of the Reticent

by Ember360



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Ballroom Dancing, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mother-Son Relationship, Murder, Parent Death, Rated For Violence, Revenge, Storms, Uhhh if yall find any other tws lemme know, Yeah this fic covers a lot gjkgfhk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember360/pseuds/Ember360
Summary: It's the first night at school. Argo reflects on his... goal.
Relationships: Argo Keene & Shebrie Keene, Shebrie Keene & The Commodore, The Commodore & Argo Keene
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Wrath of the Reticent

**Author's Note:**

> HI HELLO SORRY FOR POSTING ANGST TWICE IN A ROW ANYWAY HERE'S THE CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> -Storms  
> -Drowning/threat of drowning  
> -Gore (not very descriptive but there is. blood.)  
> -Violence  
> -Murder/death  
> -Betrayal

Shebrie sat in the captain's quarters with a quill in her hand. The map laid out before her was decorated with intricate strokes, thought put in each small detail. Her face was concentrated as she laid the ink onto the parchment carefully. A red ribbon kept her long hair out of her face, but a strand fell loose and she blew it out of her way. 

A face peaked over the desk to look at the drawing she was working on. He watched as his mother added a small picture of an island to the map and labeled it in pretty handwriting. 

"Can I draw too?" Argo asked, his voice small yet excited. 

"No, sweetheart," Shebrie smiled, and her son pouted. "This is mama's map. You can doodle after I'm done." 

Argo bounced up and down on his tippy-toes. "No, I don't wanna do it after you, I wanna draw right now with you!" He reached for the ink, but Shebrie pulled it out of his way just in time. 

"Remember how we talked about patience?" Shebrie chastised him gently. "You have to lie in wait to catch a fish." 

Her son huffed and slumped his shoulders. "Yeah, I remember..." Shebrie ruffled his dark blue hair and he scrunched his face up. Argo couldn't stay disappointed long in the attention of his mother. "What's your drawing?" he asked, ever curious. 

"It's the island we visited yesterday. I haven't added it yet, so I felt the need to," Shebrie said as she dipped her quill in the ink again. Argo picked up a piece of charcoal and sat on the floor as he fiddled with it. 

"I didn't like that island," Argo commented simply. 

Shebrie smiled fondly. "Yeah? Why's that?" 

"There wasn't anything interesting! Just a bunch of sand and some trees! I like that place with the shops, the one with the books! I like the books. I want some more, I finished all the ones I got last time, remember?" Argo said as he looked up.

Shebrie chuckled and patted her son's head again. "Yes, I remember." 

"I like the writing ones but I like yours better, I like the one with the prince and the bad guy who's actually a good guy," Argo rambled on. He leaned down and almost started to draw on the floor with his piece of charcoal before Shebrie nudged him with her boot. 

"Don't draw on the ship, you'll scratch the wood. I'm almost done and then you can use the desk and I can lend you some paper, I promise," she reasoned. 

"Okay." Argo stood and put the charcoal back on the desk. He bounced over towards his mother's bed and collapsed into the fluffy sheets. "I like this bed. It's a lot better than all the other ones." 

Shebrie sighed deeply. "Yes, it is, isn't it..." She didn't like having a bigger bed than the rest of her crew. It made her feel strange. She wanted to be the opposite of the old captain of the narwhaling ship, she wanted her relationship with the crew to be built off mutual respect and camaraderie. She wanted them to be equals, to share what they had. "We're not keeping it."

"What?" Argo sat up. "That's not fair-!" 

"No, it is fair. Everyone else has a hammock or a cot and we shouldn't be any different." Shebrie picked up her map and started to put it back up on the wall. "We can use the money from the bed for more rations, too. I'm gonna sell it at the next port."

"But I like the bed! The old captain got to have a cool bed, so why shouldn't you? You're in charge!" Argo protested. Shebrie frowned and sat down on the bed next to her son. 

"Argo." She said firmly, taking his small hands in hers. "Argo, you remember the captain before me?" 

"Yeah. I didn't like him." 

"Yes. He was a bad man, Argo. He got his power from fear and exploiting others and making sure that no-one dared to defy him. And I don't want that, because that's not real power, that's not real respect. Loyalty is made out of friendship and it helps both of the people involved. As a captain, it's yer job to protect yer crew, and their job to protect you. Do you understand?"

Argo nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, mama," he murmured with sparkling eyes, looking up at his mother, his captain, his idol. 

Shebrie smiled softly and gave her son a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Argo. I'm so proud of you." 

"I love you too, ma."

\---

Rain beat down on the roof of the annex as Argo laid in his bed, wide awake. It didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. He stared at the ceiling, unblinking and deep in thought. He glanced up to see Fitzroy sitting upright, in his trance. The firbolg was on the floor among the leaves that he had dragged inside.

Argo pulled the covers over his head. The bed he was in was softer than he was used to. He knew that there were two desks in the corner, each filled with as many pencils and papers as he could ever need. 

But he didn't want quills and art and soft pillows anymore. 

He took a deep breath and curled further into the soft material, letting it envelop him.

\---

Storms at sea were always bad. The water would crash against the hull and spray onto the deck, making the wood slippery and dangerous. The rocking motion didn't help, and Argo had to cling onto the rails so he wouldn't tumble over the side.

"Ma!" he called into the storm, scooting across the rails to where Shebrie was standing, trying to see which direction would get them out of the storm the quickest. 

"Argo!" she shouted angrily as she turned around. "I told you to stay inside!" 

"No!" Argo shouted back. A wave crashed into the hull and sprayed him directly in the face, but he didn't care. He spit saltwater out of his mouth and looked back up at his captain, who was just as soaked. "I'm not gonna leave you out here! I'm gonna help!" 

Shebrie huffed in exasperation, although she couldn't help but smile as well. Argo could be so stubborn sometimes. It was a trait he had inherited from her. "Argo, sweetheart, that's very brave of you and I'm proud of you for it but there's not much you _can_ do. Just go back to under deck, please. We've got this under control, for the most part."

Argo seemed to consider her words for a moment. He took a deep breath and held his mother's hand in his own. "I know. But I still want to be here with you." 

"Alright," Shebrie finally agreed. She turned her attention back to the raging ocean before her, and her son did the same. Shebrie scanned the rough waters, blinking rain out of her eyes desperately. She really ought to get some sort of hat. Through the wind and the rain, it was nearly impossible to spot a break in the rumbling gray clouds overhead

"There!" Argo shouted, pointing towards a small clear patch in the sky. Shebrie looked down at him and smiled. She may have been raised on the sea, but Argo was a _part_ of it. 

"That's my boy!" the captain grinned, patting him on the back. Shebrie turned around and called to the helmsman, gesturing towards the direction where Argo had been pointing. In doing so, she let go of the handrail.

Suddenly, a wave collided with the ship and the momentum sent Shebrie flying across the deck. The captain flipped over the railing and disappeared over the edge of the boat. 

Argo watched in terror as his mother fell overboard. "Ma!" he wailed. He glanced at the helmsman, who shook their head, silently telling him not to do it. Then Argo jumped in after her.

The cold waters hit him like a ton of bricks, but his water genasi traits made sure that he didn't descend into shock upon impact. Argo couldn't see Shebrie over the water but when he ducked his head underneath he finally spotted her struggling to stay afloat.

"Ma!" he called again, paddling towards her. 

"Arg-" his mother tried to yell back, but the waves drowned out her voice as she went under. Argo did the same, looking desperately for her under the water. He could see better without all the rain, but he couldn't find her anymore. 

The currents pulled him towards the boat, but Argo had always been a strong swimmer and he didn't give in to them. He continued his search and at last found Shebrie near the boat, trying not to be smashed against the hull. Argo shot himself towards her and grabbed her and swam upwards, but without his arms he could not swim with her weight. 

Shebrie was looking worse by the second as the air ran out of her lungs. _No, no, no, please, she can't leave she's all I have don't take her from me._

With a burst of grim determination, Argo kicked off the side of the boat and half-carried, half-threw his mother up towards the surface. 

Shebrie took a huge gulp of air and coughed and sputtered while Argo held her, struggling to keep them both afloat. He was soaking wet, from rain, from the ocean, from tears. 

"Captain!" someone called from the deck, and a rope was thrown down to them. Shebrie grabbed onto it and hugged her son tightly as the two of them were hoisted up and out of harm's way. "Get them below deck, we're all set here." 

Someone tried to pull Argo away from her, but Shebrie shook her head and held her son closer. She let her crew lead them down into their quarters, still clutching Argo to her chest all the way. One crew member wrapped a towel around her shoulders and said, "You stay down here, cap'n. We'll handle the waters," before closing the door behind them.

They barely talked that night. They just held one another, shaking from both the cold and their own quiet sobs. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other, neither of them dared to move away because what then? What if they lost each other again? What if Shebrie fell in again, what if Argo did something impulsive again, what if Shebrie almost drowned again, what if Argo risked his life for someone else's sake again? 

None of those scary things could ever happen if they stayed here, in each other's arms. 

"I love you," whispered his mother.

"I love you too," whispered her son.

And the storm began to fade.

\---

Thunder suddenly shook the room, and Argo shot upright in his bed. His heart pounded in his chest, but with a few deep breaths he was able to calm his shakey nerves.

The clock on the wall ticked away slowly. Tick, tick, tick. A constant pressence, a repetitive and unrelenting sound. 

TIck, tick, tick. 

He hated it. He hated that clock so goddam much. He wanted to rip it off the wall right now, to put a stop to that incessant ticking. But no. Instead he just laid back down and squeezed his eyes shut. 

But Argo remained restless.

\---

"Good evening, Captain Keene," said The Mariah's most recent ally. He bowed deeply and took Shebrie's hand, giving it a small kiss.

Argo turned up his nose and scratched at the fabric around his neck. He hated dressing fancy, he hated galas, he hated everything about this place. The food was bland and the music was boring and the people were both.

"And a good evening to you as well, Commodore." Shebrie nudged her son's arm in an attempt to get him to say something to the man before them. 

"Hi..." Argo murmured, suddenly very shy. He didn't like this tall man, 'The Commodore'. He seemed too prim and proper, almost like he was fake. His eyes were strange too. Argo couldn't tell what emotion was in them - something that he could do fairly well with other folks. 

"Commodore, you've met my son, yes? Argo?" Shebrie asked, and Argo retreated behind his mother even further. 

"Not formly, no." The Commodore leaned down a bit and held up a hand, which Argo shied away from. "Pleasure to meet you." Argo knew he was supposed to shake The Commdore's outstretched hand, but he didn't want to. "Well? Don't keep me waiting." 

Shebrie cleared her throat and inched in between the two of them just a bit. "It's alright if he doesn't want to shake hands; he doesn't have to if he doesn't feel like it." The Commodore appeared disgruntled, and Argo gave his mom a grateful look. 

"Anyways, I hear the crown's been considering adding a new vessel to that fleet a' yours?" Shebrie said, changing the subject. After a few minutes, Argo wandered away from their boring adult conversation and made his way to the snack table. There was a water container there, with a few lemons floating at the top.

"Can we eat those?" Argo asked a nearby gentleman as he pointed towards the floating lemons. 

Then man gave him a strange expression and walked away. Argo sighed dejectedly. He supposed that was a hard 'no'. Why would anyone even put lemons in the water anyway? That was a waste of perfectly good food, now they were going to get all soggy!- not that he didn't mind soggy. 

Finally Argo made his way back to Shebrie, lemon water in hand (it didn't even _taste_ like lemons! what a rip-off!). She was still talking The Commodore when she noticed he had returned. 

"Hey there sweetheart, what cha' got-" 

"Those who wish to participate in any dancing may do so at this time; as for those who do not, please exit the main ballroom area. Thank you," a detached voice echoed. 

"Oh, ma, can we-"

"May I have this dance?" The Commodore asked, his sturdy voice overpowering Argo's. He bowed and held out one hand to Shebrie. 

"I suppose," Shebrie chuckled, taking the bait. "Argo, you wait here, dear. I'll be back in just a minute." Argo nodded solemnly as he watched his mother be dragged away by The Commodore. He really didn't like that guy. He would've been _such_ a better dance partner than him. It wasn't fair.

Argo huffed and sat down on one of the stairs leading into the hallway. He watched as his mother danced around the room. It was so strange, seeing her do this fancy dance. She looked stiff, serious, unnatural. Argo could tell she wasn't having any fun. Shebrie was just doing this for The Commodore, giving in to this stupid party's etiquette just to make things easier. 

He remembered Shebrie telling him about that once. "You have ta' pick yer battles," she had said. "Sometimes the best thing to do is sit back and let the tides carry you, you know? You'll get to port eventually."

With a sigh, Argo finished his lemon water and laid down on the stairs. If this 'party' was going to be such a bore than at least he'd get a nice nap. By the look of the windows, it was nighttime, so maybe Shebrie wouldn't wake him and she'd just carry him home. He liked being carried. It made him feel safe, cared for...

"Hey kiddo." Argo opened his eyes to find his mother staring down at him. "You still up for a little dancing?" 

Argo grinned widely. "Really?!" Wait. He was supposed to be mad at her. He crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical look. "I thought you were dancing with The _Commodore_." 

Shebrie chuckled at her son's shenanigans. "Yeah, well, don't tell him this but..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, and Argo listened intently. "I think you're probably a better dance partner." 

Argo's smile was wider than the sun as he stood up and let his mother lead him to the center of the ballroom. Their waltz was clumsy and awkward. They stepped on each other's toes and every one in the room gave them side-glances of disapproval. Argo was too short and Shebrie was too tall. They were horrible dancers. 

And they had a wonderful time.

At the end of the night, little Argo was tuckered out. Shebrie did end up carrying him home. He fell asleep in her arms, the calming motion of her steps rocking him to sleep. 

"Thanks for coming with me, sweetheart. I know it wasn't the most fun, but I'm glad you were there anyway. I love you," Shebrie whispered as he drifted off. 

"I love you too," he murmured into her shirt.

\---

"Could you not be _any_ louder?" Argo looked up to see Fitzroy staring down at him from his self-made bunkbed. "Some of us are trying to meditate here and you thrashing around like a fish out of water isn't exactly helping."

"Sorry..." Argo murmured, trying to get comfortable again so that he'd stop having to move around. 

Fitzroy sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Its- Its fine, just- just go to bed, alright? Today's been... A lot, and I just want it to be over." 

"Yeah, I know, I know." Argo gave up on finding a suitable sleeping position and just came to lie on his back. "Sorry fer keepin' you up." 

"Just go to bed."

"...goodnight."

"Hm."

Fitzroy had already taken up his original position, sitting up and staring blankly across the room. Argo turned his head towards the ceiling, glaring up at it with tired eyes. He was right back where he had started.

\---

The night it happened was one like any other. The only reason Argo even went up deck was that he couldn't sleep. Sometimes he wondered what would've happened if he had just stayed in bed. Sometimes he wished he had. Things would've been so much simpler... But no. If he hadn't gone up that night, no one would have seen it. Then _he_ would've gotten away with it. And Argo couldn't let that happen.

The only two people on deck were Shebrie and The Commodore. The hero was visiting their ship for the third time that month. His visits were becoming more and more frequent, much to Argo's quiet displeasure. He was right not to trust him. He wished he was wrong. 

The Mariah was a beautiful vessel. Her steps never creaked when Argo walked up them, her boards never gave him away. Many captains would kill to have such a sturdy and graceful ship in their fleet.

As Argo came onto the deck, he stopped by the stairs, which were out of sight from were his mother and The Commodore were standing, looking out on the ocean. He could hear them whispering. He didn't want to interrupt them, so he just stood there, peaking around the stairs. 

He should have approached them. Every day Argo regretted that small decision. If he had just said something, if he had joined their conversation, made his presence known, his mother would still be alive. The Commodore would have given him a disgruntled look and Shebrie would have smiled at him and offered to tell him a story and he would have fallen asleep in her arms as they looked out over the sea and The Commodore wouldn't have dared to lay a finger on her because Argo was there and he was protecting her. 

But he didn't. He stood and watched them chat. He started fiddling with the hem of his nightshirt and he didn't see The Commodore draw his sword. He didn't even look up when Shebrie turned around. She had always been an insightful and attentive woman. She saw the weapon before Argo did, and she wasn't going down without a fight. 

The Commodore snarled in rage as Shebrie slashed at his face with her pocket knife. Argo looked up just in time to see him stab his mother in the stomach with his blade. 

It happened so quickly. Funny, isn't it, how things can go so terribly in such a short amount of time? You slip once, and suddenly you're spiraling down a cliff with nothing to catch your fall. As Shebrie collapsed on the deck, sputtering and dying, the world caved in. Argo hadn't been the one stabbed in the gut, but he might as well have been. He never knew fear and anguish so strong, and it threatened to overwhelm his small body. He was so, so small, everything else was looming down on him. His thoughts were rattling in brain and all he could hear was screaming, his own mind was screaming at him and he couldn't understand the words, he couldn't understand anything. His stomach plummeted and he stumbled backwards. The world around him was spinning, dizzying and unfamiliar. He needed to get out of here, but where was here, what was going on? He needed something comforting, he needed someone to be there, he needed his mother. His mother. Shebrie. Shebrie! She was right there! And she- and she... she...

Argo screamed in terror, and The Commodore whirled around. The little boy darted behind the staircase and considered running down it, but he instead ran around the other side of the stairs, so that he was out of sight again. His plan worked, and The Commodore rushed below deck as Argo ran to his mother's body. 

"Ma!" he sobbed, trying to keep his voice down as best he could. "Ma, I'm right here, I'm - I'm gonna help you, you- you'll be f- fine, I just have to- we have to get out of here, please you need to sta- stand up I can't carry you, I can't, _please_ Mama-" 

"Argo-" Shebrie whispered. Her son examined the stab wound, which was right in the liver. Her blood was sticky and hot on his hands. Argo looked around for a piece of cloth to cover it up, but Shebrie turned his head back towards her. "Argo, baby, p- please you need to go i- if he finds you he'll kill you too-" She coughed and sputtered, spitting blood all over Argo's white nightshirt. 

"No, no, no, _please_ you have to get up, you have to get up, we have to go, we have to go _together_ ," Argo bawled. He tried to pull her up, but she was too heavy for him to carry all by himself. He couldn't do this by himself. 

"Argo." 

"No! No I'm not leaving you! I can't l- leave you!" 

Shebrie raised one hand up weakly, cupping her son's cheek. He leaned in to her touch, hot tears streaming down his little face. He was so young. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all, Shebrie should have had more time, she should've been given the time to raise her son, and Argo should've been allowed to keep his mother. It hurt more than the stab wound, for Shebrie to know that she would never get the chance to raise her son, her beautiful baby boy, that he would have to live the rest of his life motherless. Anger rose up inside the captain, and with that came determination. 

"Argo. Listen to me. You have to go inside the emergency rowboat and you have to hide there until it's safe and then you have to cut the rope and get as far away from h- here possible. Do you understand?" 

"No, please, I- I can't-" 

"Do you understand?" Shebrie demanded, and Argo cried harder. 

"Ye- Yes, but- I don't- I can't _lose_ you, you're all I _have_ , please!" 

Shebrie pulled her son closer, and kissed his forehead as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. "I'm so proud of you. You're going to grow up and you'll always be amazing and wonderful and I'll always be proud of you, I promise. You'll find new people and they'll adore you because you're incredible and they'll love you and I will love you, I will _always_ love you." Suddenly her breath caught in her throat and she gasped for air. She finally found it, but it was getting harder and harder to breath by the second. 

"I don't want new people, I want _you_! I don't want you to leave, please! Don't d- die, you can't _leave_ ," Argo murmured. Shebrie took off her captain's hat and pulled part of it away. It was the red ribbon that she had been using as a band, the same ribbon she had been wearing for years. She placed it firmly in her son's tiny hands and kissed his knuckles. 

"I'm not going to leave you." 

"O-okay."

"You have to go now."

"But-"

"Now!" Shebrie commanded, and Argo stumbled to his feet and ran towards the emergency boat. 

He looked back to Shebrie one last time, looked back at her bloody tear-stained face. Even so close to death, she looked angelic in the moonlight. "I love you," his mother said, one last time. 

Heavy boots made the stairs of The Mariah creak. Argo climbed carefully into the rowboat, trying his best not to rock it. 

He heard The Commodore stomp on to the deck. He heard him say "Oh, don't you worry Shebrie, I'll deal with your little brat soon enough." He heard him pick her up by the collar of her shirt. He heard him unsheath his knife. He heard him say, "Any last words, Keene?". He heard the silence as his mother refused to let her last words be to her killer. He heard her sputter and gasp as The Commodore slit her throat. He heard him walk to the edge of the ship and drop his mother's corpse into the sea. He heard the new captain chuckle and walk back down the steps, no doubt to continue his search for the witness.

All the while, Argo held the red ribbon to his mouth, trying desperately not to scream, not to sob, not to breathe too loudly. His clothes and hands were covered in his mother's blood, but he didn't dare to try to wipe it off in fear of rocking the rowboat. Silent tears ran down his face as his fingernails dug small crescents into his skin, trying to silence himself. 

_"I love you,"_ echoed Shebrie Keene's final words. He never had the chance to say it back.

\---

Argonaut Keene was a man of fury.

He was quiet about it. Most people just saw him as an upbeat, friendly little sailor with big dreams. And, oh, he had big dreams alright.

His wrath was that of a caged animal. Silenced, pushed down and ignored for years, and years, and years; lying in wait for the day when it could leap out and finally, at last, _destroy_. It pushed at his edges, desperate to be freed, but instead Argo just ignored it, and by doing so, he added to it. Every time someone snapped at him, ignored him, treated him like dirt, it grew and grew. He could feel it shaking and screaming in the pit of his stomach, demanding to be released. 

It ate at him. It was exhausting, keeping himself under control. He wanted to yell, he wanted to scream and shout and punch everything within sight. But he couldn't. He had to wait. One day, he'd find him. And then he could let it all out. 

Years of pent-up rage. Years of letting people walk all over him, years of being the follower who did as he was told and nothing else. Years of silent resentment, years of dealing with people who wouldn't give him the time of day. Years of hatred and pain and trauma and _grief_. 

When was the last time he had cried? When was the last time he'd felt like crying? When was the last time he'd let himself feel anything? 

Thunder boomed outside of their dorm, shaking the annex. Argo's wide eyes bore into the ceiling as a flash of lighting illuminated his face. His eyes were steady, focused. Furious. In one hand, he clutched a ribbon with a deadly grip.

He was going to _kill_ the man who took his mother from him, took _everything_ from him. And he was going to savor every single _second_ of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I HATE THE COMMODORE SO MUCH YOU GUYS, ANYWAYS, STAN SHEBRIE
> 
> I know this probably isn't canon because Argo made it seem like maybe The Commodore didn't kill Shebrie directly, he just lead to it but. yeah. here's this now. I love writing Shebrie a whole lot (I love her so much,,,, pirate lady,,,,,) and will probably do it again. Argo's story is veryyyy interesting and important to me and I honestly can't wait to see it progress. Keene family, I care youuuuu! 
> 
> Also here's my [Argo music playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6mt76lIhdXyjNisCoZCCka?si=PoStcJT4TJmhjS9WGmlVsQ) if you want it hkkfgkffgkk


End file.
